The second I pull into my driveway and ease the car into the garage, I jump out and rush toward the door. Being in that confined space with Roman was beginning to addle my brain, and I’m pretty sure I have enough damage in there as it is. I can’t afford to lose any more brain cells.

I hear Roman’s clipped pace follow me into the house, trailing a few feet behind me. As soon as we reach the living room, I throw my purse down on the couch and kick off my heels. The security guard looks like he hasn’t left the seat where I’d left him a few hours ago.

With a flourish, I introduce the two. “Robert/Richard, this is Roman. And Roman, this is Robert/Richard, my current, very dutiful, personal security detail.”

Robert/Richard looks up from the couch where he’s sitting, his feet propped up on the marble coffee table as he plays on his phone. “It’s actually Rick.”

I see a wave of anger and annoyance flash over Roman’s face as he watches Rick casually ignore the both of us in favor of whatever game he’s playing on his phone.

“Out. Now.” Roman orders as he stands directly in front of Rick. The minute the words leave Roman’s mouth, Rick’s eyes finally leave his phone and he looks up, a mixture of confusion and fear on his face. He very clearly has no chance against Roman, and I catch the instant he realizes it. His mouth gapes open and he looks over at me. I shrug my shoulders and gesture to the door.

Rick shoves the phone in his pocket and leaps up from the couch. He opens his mouth to say something, but one look from Roman sends his jaw clamping shut. Instead, he sulks to the door, slamming it on his way out, eliciting another dark look from Roman.

“Okay, change of plans. I am calling a few buddies of mine and we’re taking over your entire security detail. You are going to call whatever ridiculous agency that idiot came from and tell them to take a hike.”

With my two fingers, I give him a mock salute, which draws a scowl from his face. I watch as he begins to walk around the house, examining the windows and doors he passes by. He is thorough with his assessment as he tests each window, opening it and inspecting the latches. After a few moments, he walks to the front door and disappears outside to continue his inspection.

Shaking my head, I pull out my phone and shoot a quick text to Melissa. Bad news and worse news. Jerry is officially retired so I am stuck with the prodigal son. I am also 99% sure he would happily assist in cutting me into a thousand little pieces, so sadly I think this is one of your worst ideas to date.

It takes Melissa less than three seconds to respond with a shocked emoji face. She follows it up with a text letting me know she’s five minutes away

I roll my eyes and drop my phone back into my bag. Besides Gabby, Melissa is the only one who knows about my relationship with Roman, and I know she would take that secret to the grave. Through thick and thin, she was always by my side, never judging me for the litany of mistakes I’d left in my wake. Breaking Roman Brantley’s heart—and mine in the process—had been my biggest fuck-up yet to date.

And true to her word, five minutes later Melissa comes bursting through the door, her phone clutched in her hand. She rushes through the entry and into the living room, her head swiveling left and right.

“Well?” she asks, breathless as she drops her bag on the floor.

“Well what?”

“Where the hell is he?” Melissa sputters, her eyes bugging out.

I roll my eyes and look down to inspect my nails. “Securing the perimeter, setting booby traps, collecting sticks to make a voodoo doll of me that he can later throw into the fire pit. Who knows?”

Melissa groans in frustration. “Are you going to be okay being with Roman every day?”

I shrug my shoulders and paste an apathetic expression on my face. “It’ll be like, two weeks max, and I’m focused on the album right now so it’s not like I have any extra attention to spare. Besides, he’s not even that distracting. He’s so arrogant and serious…” I look up to see Melissa’s mouth drop open as she looks over my shoulder, her brown eyes comically wide. “Mel, are you even listening to me?” I ask as I turn to see what has her so mesmerized and feel the air escape my chest.

Oh, shit. Walking through the white French doors leading to the back patio is Roman. Except now that white T-shirt he had been wearing is soaked, the fabric clinging to every hard, rippling muscle on his chest as he stalks toward us.

“Mel!” I mutter, and she thankfully snaps her mouth shut, a guilty expression on her face.

A slanted smile on his lips, Roman saunters into the living room acting as if he isn’t halfway naked and looking like every fucking woman’s fantasy wet dream. When he catches my eyes watching him, his cocky smile widens. I snap my head away and take a deep breath, doing my best to look unaffected, though in reality, I feel my entire body tingling with awareness that Roman Brantley is a goddamn Adonis and a very large part of me wants to jump him and do very, very naughty things to him.

“Decided to take a dip in the pool?” I ask, doing my very best to sound disinterested.

“No. But maybe later, thanks for the suggestion,” he says, and I feel my cheeks burn as I imagine him, wearing nothing but wet swimming shorts that at just the right angle reveal that anaconda I personally know full well is hiding in those dark jeans.

“But I did sync your automatic perimeter lights with your sprinkler system though. It won’t stop an intruder, but it should throw them off a bit and give us the upper hand. I wanted to test it a few times to make sure it worked, so I got a little wet,” he says.

“Oh yes you did,” Melissa whispers under her breath, and I shoot her an annoyed look.

“Melissa, is that you?” Roman asks as he steps down the stairs into the living room.

Melissa nods and jumps up from the chair, offering her open arms for a hug.

“Oh, I’m all wet—” Roman says as she approaches him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Melissa says as she pulls Roman into a hug, wrapping her arms around him, eliciting a small chuckle from Roman.

I clench my jaw and stand up, waiting for their little hug fest to end. I clear my throat to remind them I am still here and Melissa reluctantly pulls away. “It’s really so great to see you again, Roman,” she says, her cheeks a bright pink.

I grab Melissa’s arm and drag her out of the room. “Okay, Roman. We have to go and work.”

I pull her into the adjacent small study and close the door behind us. “Why did you drag me away from that?” Melissa asks as she looks regretfully back at the closed door.

“Mel, you are ridiculous.” I stifle back a yawn and fall into the seat behind me.

“You look exhausted. Oh that reminds me, I talked with your doctor and explained your trouble sleeping. I told them you didn’t do well on the Ambien, so they wanted you to come in for a sleep study.”

“Mel, I don’t have time—”

“I know,” Melissa interrupts, holding up her hand. “And that’s what I told them. So the secretary told me about this thing called a Lifebeat.” She rummages through her purse and pulls out a small gold bracelet with a heart pendant. “It’s super cool. It's going to track your sleep, so we can report those results back to the doctor."

Melissa clasps the bracelet around my wrist. “Look, it’s cute. And it’s so pretty, you won’t even notice it’s there.” Melissa holds up her wrist, revealing a matching bracelet. “Twins! I synced both of ours up to my phone. I also added the GPS step-counter app, so we can try to out-step each other." She pulls out her phone and opens up the app. "I'm already at 2,300 for the day so you need to catch up."

I play with the small heart charm on the bracelet. "This is next-level creepy, even for you Mel," I say.

Melissa rolls her eyes as she tucks her phone back into her pocket. She points her finger at me. "Just wear it for two weeks so we can get enough data to send over. And don't take it off—you can wear it in the shower, too."

"Yes, ma'am," I dutifully answer, knowing full well not to bother arguing. Besides, it is kind of a cute bracelet.

Melissa slides down into one of the overstuffed fabric chairs, shaking her head. “How the hell are you going to control yourself with that man running around your house?”

I glare at her, folding my arms across my chest. “Easy. He’s Roman Brantley, the man who’s heart I broke by breaking up with him during a five-minute phone call two days before he was deployed to Iraq. I don’t need to have self-control, because that man hates me and he wants nothing to do with me.”

Melissa slants her head, her searching eyes easily reading me. “You never did tell me why it is you broke up with him.”

I shrug my shoulders, doing my best to look disinterested. “It’s in the past. Anyways, I’ve got too much going on to worry about Roman. Like wrapping up this album. Which reminds me, did you tell Leslie that I want to re-record the first half of track nine?”

Shifting to business mode, Melissa pulls out her phone. “Right, she wrote back to me. She booked you some time on Thursday so we can finish that up.” Scrolling through her phone, she reads another email and looks up at me excitedly. “I think we’re closer to getting you that American Music Awards performance slot. I emailed Tom and he said—”

She continues to go on, and while I keep my gaze trained on her, nodding when appropriate, in my head, I’m a thousand miles away. Back to when I was twenty years old, holding my phone as I end the call with Roman, telling him I never want to see him again. It’s a memory I forced myself to try and forget and now that he’s here, back in my life, I realize forgetting breaking Roman Brantley’s heart is going to be a lot harder than I thought.